


Round Table

by Zinnith



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: kinkme_merlin, Future Fic, Infidelity, M/M, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-15
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinnith/pseuds/Zinnith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur knows it's just a piece of furniture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Table

**Author's Note:**

> For kinkme_merlin, the prompt _Arthur/Merlin, round table._

He owes the idea to Merlin (not that he'd say it out loud, but he can admit these things to himself now). A round table with no place for a high seat. Just a large wooden oak table, polished to gleam, with a ever-changing number of chairs. Around this table, there are no titles and no heritages. No one cares about kings or lords, servants or commoners. They are all equal. There are no fixed seats and everyone just sits down wherever there's a free spot. (And if Arthur somehow always ends up with Merlin on his right and Lancelot on his left, no one mentions it.)

It's the same during the nights now. When the last goblet of wine has been emptied, when the last flagon of ale has run dry, when the knights leave to search out the comfort of their beds. When Lance saunters off after clasping Arthur's shoulder, both of them pretending that he's not heading for Guinevere's chambers. When the candles are burning low and moonlight trickles in through the window, when Arthur and Merlin are the only ones left.

Sometimes they just sit there and talk until dawn, until Arthur's spot in his wife's bed is once again vacated. Other times, it's like Merlin has just been waiting for them to be alone. Then he'll sweep the empty glasses off the table, push the chairs aside with a touch of his mind and a gleam of gold in his eyes. Arthur will watch in anticipation of what's to come. He knows how it goes, looks forward to every time. Merlin will take him over the table, pressing kisses against his spine, whispering soft words of endearment against his neck. Arthur will reach behind, palming Merlin's arse, forcing him deeper, harder, until he's completely open and accepting of everything Merlin has to give.

They're older now than when they first used to do this, over the table in Arthur's chambers. Merlin is taller, his hair is longer, he carries himself with a new self-confidence now that he doesn't have to hide his true self anymore. Arthur has more scars, more troubles, the weight of his land and his armour a little heavier to bear these days. They both have come into their powers, standing side by side now where before one was walking ahead and the other was following (even though Arthur never really managed to figure out who was who).

The candle light and the flames in the fireplace reflect off the table, making it gleam golden like Merlin's eyes in the throes of passion, in the throes of magic. Arthur rests his cheek against the warm wood, feeling Merlin move inside him, drawing out their pleasure as far as it goes. Merlin's breath comes rough where his hands are gentle and Arthur thinks of his knights, of Lance and Gwen, wonders if they know. They probably do, and it doesn't matter.

This table is the public symbol of Arthur's reign and the secret symbol of his union with Merlin, and Arthur knows it's just a piece of furniture, but in his mind it's so much more.


End file.
